


Colors

by konako



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 14:09:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11648148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konako/pseuds/konako
Summary: Set in early Season Two. Canon-compliance"What do you want?"As Regina bursts through the doors of City Hall, the sight of a protective waitress catches her attention. The Queen remembers every detail of the wolf, but Regina cannot recall the color of Ruby's eyes.





	Colors

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of those that you just want to write because why not.  
> Hope you like it.

Henry.

She wants _Henry._ She wants her son back in her home, in her presence, in her company. Regina, above all, wants Henry. The power coursing through her veins has not blinded her to that. Not yet.

She _still_ thinks of Henry. The magic prowling in the pages of Rumpelstiltskin’s spell book hasn’t clouded her thoughts. It hasn’t yet stained her judgement — her affection for the most important person in her life, _her son._

It’s _Henry, who_ Regina wants. But when the furious question echoed in the air, the Queen didn’t bother to answer it. Not to Snow White’s _dog._

The young woman’s figure was, in an unsettling way, strangely magnetic. The former waitress stood her ground with a power beyond the bounds of her thin frame, enchanting the attention of all around her — the vile townsfolk of that pathetic little town.

It was almost nostalgic, the atmosphere of fear surrounding Regina. There was something intimately endearing in bursting through the large doors and scattering a large crowd that cowered in terror of her mere presence.

The murderous magic — alive once more in the fabric of her bones — was a sweet old memory.

The woman standing in front of her was, too, an old memory. Something in the way the young woman stood, offensive and protective, irradiating more power than humans eyes were able to see, rising for the protection of a defenseless mob, — that woman reminded Regina of the battlefields.

The _waitress_ daring to challenge her brought back memories of times when Henry wasn’t her son and Regina knew nothing more in life, than the thirst for vengeance and war; when the answer awaiting eagerly at the tip of her tongue wouldn’t be a single name, called so kindly.

The times to which the woman transported her belonged to an era when the seductive power of magic had, at last, conquered her reason and enslaved her body, commanding slaughter after slaughter, without the slightest hint of remorse.

An era when her answer would demand blood; an era when the only thing on her mind to satiate her hunger would be the cold lifeless body of _Snow White._

“Me!”

A familiar voice dispersed the red colored fog in her mind. Henry pushed his small body through the crowd, struggling in his large winter coat and backpack.

“She wants _me”_

Regina broke her gaze on the woman, letting the reminiscences of ancient times fade out to the back of her mind, taking with them the familiar feeling of fire and fear. With a delighted sigh, she drew a victorious smile on red lips.

Her eyes fell to her son, who walked towards her despite the visible slump in his shoulders and the frown on his face. Small and angry, with protesting steps, Henry didn’t want to come to her, but pushed himself to it — _for the safety of those people, perhaps?_

What a noble sacrifice that would be. What a repugnant trace he had inherited from the Charming bloodline.

In fact, such an act resembled — in a more refined way — what the waitress had done. Regina knew the woman in question had no blood relation to that despicable family, but maybe not all annoying traits had to be passed down generations.

They both stood for a cause. _Obedience to a higher duty, maybe?_

Regina wouldn’t care.

The only thing of value in her field of vision now as her son, stomping towards her arms. _To her arms. Returning to her._

And, only then, behind the child, Regina took notice of the woman’s form, irreducible and unwilling to back down. She held her stare with vibrant — blue eyes? Green? Brown?

She had never really paid much attention to the hue of her eyes. Regina had, indeed, never paid much attention to anything about that cursed ally of Snow White’s army, besides the color of her fur, as the infamous wolf decimated battalion after battalion in her march against the Queen.

That was the only color the Queen had cared to store in her memory — the dark brown fur stained with blood and snow.

The human form, however, hadn’t proved to be worthy of her attention.

What color were her eyes? Golden? Or did they only shine yellow under the glow of a full moon?

“I’ll come with you,” Henry called to her again, stealing her focus from the woman. “Just, leave them alone!” The boy asked, but the woman could hear only his voice, and none of his words.

Regina reached a hand to caress her son’s cheek. At the very least, he hadn’t inherited the sickening blue eyes of his grandfather — and for that Regina was thankful, as she didn’t have to be reminded of the awful biological tendency, every time she laid eyes on Henry. Whoever his blood father was, Regina owed him a thankful nod through the distance.

“That’s my boy,” she smiled, embracing Henry with her arm and pulling his small body towards hers, in an awkward, unwanted hug. And as she led him out of the Hall, a sadistic satisfaction filled her belly, seeing as the sea of people parted to make way for them.

Even the waitress was forced to move out of her path, granting her space. There was something different about her movements and her silence, however. They weren’t like the townsfolk’s, that stumbled away with dread and disgust — the woman moved precisely and firmly. The rigid moves and steps did not seem to fear Regina, but only back away from a delayed fight.

That wasn’t the _waitress._ Not the unassuming attendant of short skirts and long legs — attributes that, in a different way, had earned a spot in Regina’s memory. No.

There stood the warrior, the wolf.

Red.

Eyes in shades of… gray? What was the color in her irises?

Regina lifted a hand in the air and the shapeless magic shut the doors behind her, abandoning the town of cowards; of weak peasants and a brave waitress.

What an admirable imposition that single woman had shown herself to be, raising in the defense of many.

A noble soldier, worthy of a better memory.

***

When the mayor had finally cultivated the courage to leave the safety of her mansion, her path took her to the town’s most frequented diner.

It would be a foolish choice — she could detect the irony there —, to seek relief in the only other place in Storybrooke more infested by the name of the Charmings, but Regina didn’t have a better alternative.

She needed to leave the comfort of her exile; to face the condemning and repulsed stares of the people in town. The imminent confront in her exposure to Storybrooke was a vital part of her road to redemption.

After so many mistakes and traumas, those people should be able to see her for her sincere attempt to _be better;_ to pursuit more benevolent ways than her reputation as the Evil Queen.

Henry had asked that of her and Regina would give him so. She would leave her home at last, leaving behind the pathetic self-pity she had gotten so used to. She would face the judgement in the prying eyes, without letting herself be shielded with hatred — or magic. An arduous redemption Regina owed to herself and her dear son.

Because of that, she now sat alone on the stools of Granny’s.

The realization of such a position only dawned on her when the mayor finally allowed herself to calm down from the fuming — although elegantly disguised — anxiety.

Only when the whispered gossip had grown tired of discussing her presence and the eyes had grown bored of her face, Regina could properly focus on what was in front of her eyes.

The waitress that stood before her, once again.

“Madam Mayor,” the woman rested her weight on the balcony with pale, bare arms. “How can I serve you?” The woman’s question was cloaked in dense politeness. Cold and impersonal courtesy that served only to contradict the real emotion in her features.

Regina took a second to analyze it, allowing herself the moment of rude indiscretion.

The eyes were _green_.

And blue. And brown, and golden, and gray. An indecisive pallet.

It was too complex of a color, even for the vast aesthetic taste of a Queen as demanding as Regina. She couldn’t give them a single color, even though the green shone brighter amongst the other tones.

Understandable was now her confusion. Regina, who had barely cared to glance up at her face for 28 years, would never be fit to name the wavering color in her eyes.

They were as magnetic as her figure. Eyes that bared her soul, so vibrant and sincere they posed as an intimidating opponent to Regina’s many walls.

The waitress didn’t stop any emotion from shining through her eyes and that much was visible in the shadows of her features and the indecipherable color of her irises.

The mechanic politeness of her voice was plain convenience to avoid further looks, letting on nothing but dry professionalism. Regina understood, then, that if the woman decided to be sincere and give proper voice to the emotion drawn on her face, the restaurant would stop in fright of her words.

Her eyes were hard, fixed in Regina’s direction, entirely personal and undeniably emotional. The sentiment there, however, Regina could not describe.

Undoubtedly, she didn’t have the greatest experience in dealing with other people, and her little knowledge of the waitress couldn’t begin to help Regina understand the extent of her thoughts. Something was right: her eyes _felt_ for Regina.

_What?_ was a question the mayor would like an answer for.

“Madam Mayor,” the waitress required her focus back on reality, “So, what would you like?” She repeated her question, in the exact same alienating courtesy, proving to Regina her suspicions.

“How can you be so cordial and _simple_ with me, when all the other people of this filthy—this _peculiar_ town avoid my very existence?” Regina voiced her doubt, watching as at last the sincerity started to take hold of the pale face.

In reality, that wouldn’t be the first time the waitress would stand out from the crowd.

“What do you mean?” the woman replied with another query, unaffected by the sudden need irradiating from Regina. “I treat you like I would treat anyone else,” she explained.

“Exactly,” Regina nodded, “Everyone knows I’m not deserving of such a civilized treatment. Everyone knows, because they refuse to treat me like anything but a dethroned Queen. But, you…”

“With all due respect, Madam Mayor, you can’t throw me in the same group as everyone else,” she answered, finally shedding part of her distant front. Her arms still leaned against the counter and her posture hadn’t budged, but her voice slowly started to change, “Unlike most of them, I don’t see why I should repel you, with something as petty as a grudge from past times”

“Why not?” Regina frowned, sheltered in cynicism. The woman didn’t make any sense. “You’re _Snow White’s General._ The wolf of great battles, the hunting dog and the faithful pet,” The mayor persisted on, despite the reprimand barely hidden in the woman’s eyes. “You, more than any other villager of the old land, have _real_ reasons to hate me”

“You’re mistaken, Regina,” she sighed, seeming to accept the fact that Regina wouldn’t bother to choose better terms. “It’s precisely because I’m a close friend of Snow’s that I refuse to treat you that way. Actually… maybe, I do it for myself”

“How do you mean?” Regine pushed her eyebrows in a frown, deeply confused by the woman before her. Indeed, the forged memories of a futile and superficial young woman were undeserving of the real personality that now faced Regina. Red was wise, after all. “I understand that the Charmings insist in facilitating my attempt at a ‘rehabilitation’ and must have, consequentially, instructed you to do the same — but why would _you_ personally do it?”

“Because I understand you,” the green eyes closed for a second, molding the fair expression into genuine kindness. “The path you’re on now is one that I walk myself, in secret. It would be unfair of me to deny you the chance I wish for myself”

“Redemption?” Regina inquired, wincing at the word that sounded so strange uttered aloud. The waitress, however, didn’t seem bothered, nodding along. “You seek redemption, as well?”

“I’m a werewolf,” the woman explained, shrugging at the words as if the topic was as frivolous as a discussion about the clouds. Regina could still see in her eyes — those incapable of lying — that the nonchalance was a fake. In fact, the young girl retained a certain air of tension about the subject. “I devoured my boyfriend and caused countless other deaths. I have much for which to pay and I’m constantly waiting for a chance to prove myself, to prove that I’m… well, _good._ And… regretful”

“Your condition is beyond your control,” Regina argued, revisiting in her mind all the stories she had once heard about the majestic creature in front of her. Far beyond a legend in the battlefields, Red had been a nightmare for innumerous villages and families. Tales of her power were spread across the Kingdom with an undeniable element of fear in every teller. “It’s evident for everyone, because Snow White won’t admit that they think otherwise. They _know_ you’re not what you’ve done”

Once more, the young woman shrugged, undermining all of Regina’s efforts. In a strange and unforeseen way, the mayor could appreciate the girl’s stupid attempt to appear detached.

“The same thing could be said about you,” the waitress replied, hunching down on the counter to reach Regina’s level. The bare elbows laid on the wood and Regina had to force her eyes to follow the woman’s, tearing them away from the skin exposed by the opening of the large shirt. “It only depends on the observer”

“Hmmm?” Regina added an accidental flirting note to her voice, sparkled maybe by the dubious posture before her. The memory of Ruby’s virtuous curves was perfectly preserved in her mind. “And how do you _observe me_ , then?”

“You’re a werewolf without a beast,” the waitress explained, almost like such an analogy had been waiting in her mouth for years, attentive to the right opportunity — so quick and wise Regina wondered if Red had one day hoped she could say it to her. “Your Evil Queen persona was like a constant and chaotic frenzy, one you were also a victim to, as much as anyone. I’d rather think those were the times you couldn’t control yourself, dominated by something larger than your being, while still not entirely _you,_ even if it was part of your life”

“Oh” Regina couldn’t help the impressed gasp that escaped her lips. Indeed, the waitress wasn’t as idiotic as she had appeared to be for the long years. “What an interesting theory”

Again, the young woman shrugged. This time, however, the gesture was accompanied by a charmingly innocent smile.

Rosy lips caught the mayor’s attention. Her mouth had a defined color, at least — a shade of red flawlessly balanced on the light skin.

_Why hadn’t Regina ever paid more notice to her lips?_

“It’s just what I think,” the woman admitted, enlacing the long fingers in front of her chest. “So, I can’t judge you like many of them do. They cannot understand how important it can be, the silent support in glances that don’t… hate, or _fear._ The little things that can help a lot, in this long, _long_ journey of ours”

For the first time since she had sentenced herself to live isolated in her mansion, Regina felt her lips drawing a truthful smile, mirroring the gentle curve of the rosy lips.

“You speak with splendid wisdom, Ruby” Regina looked into her eyes. The light bounced back from them in a blueish hue. “How is your path going, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Unforgiving and endless, like any journey of that nature, Madam Mayor” the taller woman granted the piece of honesty, sparing Regina false hopes. For that, the mayor was grateful. That dose of reality was surprisingly refreshing.

“Tiring, isn’t it?” Regina turned her smile into a brief chuckle, savoring the missing taste of her own laughter. For so long, she had denied herself the simple pleasure.

“Unbearable,” the waitress agreed, entertained by the tension that slowly disappeared from Regina’s shoulders. “Look for me, if you need help getting through the hardest days”

Ruby stood up and returned to her full height, pushing her body off the counter. Regina nodded, allowing the girl space to make her exit. Watching the woman leave, she made sure to store in permanent memory all the notes and shades of the green eyes, before they disappeared.

Blue, brown, golden and gray.

Suddenly, Regina wished to untangle all the pallets hidden there. All the splatters and drops of color. Daily, under every light and in the brightness of every reflection.

If possible, she would spend all of her _unforgiving and endless redemption_ with the demanding task of remembering the color of those eyes — every detail about them, to compensate for the many years of unjust disregard.

“So I will,” Regina voiced her last reply, before watching the woman leave her company. She stared at the emptiness left, alone in the silence of a newly found comfort.

A smile engraved itself on her face, at the memory of lovely colors.

 


End file.
